paper figurinesa haunting pale an instrument of form felt response on the fingers sharp slits on the palmspaper figurines
stiller than most your shapes and patterns i grasp them papyrus scrunched inside my fist released, you regain what's left of dignity caves left in your life
dancing with paper figurines i play with your lines clutch, shape and fold
Holiday HomeI sit in a forest of chair legs. Entangled.Holiday Home
I've always been good at hiding.
Like a black matchstick barricade. Like sleeping beauty's thorns. Not all sharp. Just odd. Chaotic. A playground for phaeries and fawns and all the Otherlings.
Welcome to my secret palace. Welcome to the core.
Daniel Grey
--
d(-_-)b
... In a non-stalking way
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Sunrays and Saturdays...
nice to have someone on my friends list so early
stalk all you like
--
..an agent provocateur in subculture..
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